Moments
by WeasleyGirl13
Summary: A series of One-Shots of moments from the Harry Potter characters lives. These will jump from character to character and time period to time period. Previously a One-Shot called "That Fateful Plastic Stick". Please review and let me know how I do!
1. That Fateful Plastic Stick

**Hey guys! So this is my first posted fanfiction… Please R&R and let me know if this is absolute crap, or if I should continue to write. I know it's really short, but I plan to try and write longer ones in the future. Obviously, I am not JK Rowling and don't own the characters. Thanks! ~WG**

Hermione stared at the plastic stick in her hand as if it might bite her, and pushed away a strand of her curly brown hair that had fallen across her face. The infamous two minute wait had hardly started and she was already tapping her foot against the floor impatiently. She quickly set the pregnancy test face down on the bathroom counter, and forced herself to look away from it. She would worry herself sick if she kept obsessively watching it like that.

She glanced at the mirror to distract herself, studying her reflection. Her brown eyes were wide in anticipation, framed by dark lashes and slightly bushy eyebrows. Her brown hair fell in loose curls halfway down her back. Light freckles sprinkled over her nose, which was scrunched a little as she worried. Her rose colored lips pursed as her mind raced at what this test might bring, jumping sporadically from problem to problem. Was Ron ready to be a father? Was she ready to be a mother? How would Ron react? How would the rest of the Weasley-Potter clan react? Would they tell them at the next Sunday lunch? Should they wait? What if something went wrong? And that didn't even bring up the idea of maternity leave. Leaving the office for that long... It was almost unfathomable. Who would take over? Heads of Department were pretty hard to substitute. Just when her department was starting to get the well deserved attention that they so needed. They were really beginning to fix things now. Would a pregnancy ruin everything she had worked so hard for? But at the same time, she had always wanted to be a mother... Just not necessarily so soon.

She was jolted back from her thoughts when the timer she'd set dinged quietly. She sucked in a shaky breath and reached out a quivering hand. Closing her eyes, she flipped over the stick. She peeked through one eye, and then the other popped open. She gasped. There was no mistaking the pink plus sign that sat in front of her. That was definitely a positive. She couldn't believe it. She'd passed every test she'd ever taken with flying colors and this one was no different. She stood, frozen, staring at the fateful test, trying to comprehend what this meant for their lives.

She was still frozen like that five minutes later when Ron got home.

"Hey, 'Mione," He called through the house. He strolled into the kitchen, reaching into a tin and pulling out a ginger biscuit he'd made the day before. "You won't believe what happened at the shop today." He shoved part of the biscuit into his mouth.

"Ron." Hermione murmured, stepping out of the bathroom and following her husband into the kitchen, trying to catch his attention.

"See, George wanted to try out a new product, and-" He didn't hear her as he continued his story.

"Ron!"

"He was trying to make it in the back, and-"

"Ron!"

"It exploded, purple goo was everywhere-"

"RONALD BULIUS WEASLEY!"

"Woah. Hermione. Are you ok?" Ron looked startled at her outburst.  
Hermione glanced down at the pregnancy test she'd hidden in her hands and took a deep breath before looking back into his concerned blue eyes. She stiffly uncurled her fingers out of the fists that had formed around the plastic stick, revealing it to him.

"I'm pregnant."


	2. The Emerald Ring

**A/N: So I decided to extend this… I just had some inspiration while on a cruise in Alaska. Hopefully you all like it. Please Review! Thanks! ~WG13**

The Emerald Ring

He froze mid-pace when he heard the tell-tale creak of the stairs indicating that she was coming. His hand closed over the object that rested in his palm, and he shoved it into his pocket, looking around frantically for something inconspicuous to do before busying himself with making tea. She let herself in, her bright hair practically glowing as she shook it free of its elastic restraint. The sweat was still visible on her neck as she dropped her bag and broom next to the door. He knew he'd come straight from practice. He glanced at her and smiled in what he hoped was a nonchalant way.

"Hi love." He greeted her, striding over and pulling her to him. What had begun as a greeting peck quickly deepened and he ran his hand through her hair and down her back as she pulled him tighter to her. They were quickly interrupted by the tea kettle's low whistle. He groaned as he pulled away.

"Heating water the Muggle way, are we?" She teased.

He grunted in response as he pulled out the tea fixing. In his haste to find something to do, magic had slipped his mind. "How was practice?"

"Tough. But fine." She responded, running her hand over a sore spot on her shoulder where a Bludger had struck that would surely leave a nice bruise.

"Go take a shower. Tea'll be done when you get out." He instructed, handing her a tin of salve for her injuries that they both kept on hand at all times.

She didn't protest, turning down the hall and into the bathroom, carrying her Holyhead duffel bag with her. She peeled her clothes off gingerly and left them in a pile on the tile floor. She was already starting to feel the dull ache in her muscles.

Reaching into the shower, she turned it on as hot as she could handle and stepped in, letting the hot water wash over her, and relax her tense body. After scrubbing throughly until all the sweat and grime was off her body and out of her hair, she leaned against the wall for a moment, soaking in the feeling of the scalding water against her tired skin. Finally, she forced herself to turn off the water and step out of the shower. She cast a small Warming Charm over the towel and dried off, patiently brushing the knots out of her past-waist length hair before rubbing the minty, fresh feeling salve on her new bumps and bruises and pulling on a light blue cotton dress and sandals she'd had the foresight to bring with her.

She shoved her dirty kit into the duffel bag and padded back down the hallway and towards the kitchen. "Harry?" She called.

He handed her a cup as she reached the table and sat down next to him. "Wow, Gin." He murmured.

"You like it?" Ginny asked.

Harry reached out and tucked a strand of her copper hair back behind her ear. "Love it." He stared at her.

"What?" She ducked her head self consciously.

"Ginny..." He began.

"Mmhm?"

"I know we're young, but I think we're old enough- that we've been through enough- to know what we want. And I know that I want you. Everyday. Now and forever. I want you by my side and nothing is going to change that."

"I know that, dummy." She chided gently.

Harry slid off his chair and onto one knee, pulling the small emerald ring from his pocket. Ginny choked on her tea, and very nearly spit it all over his face. "Oh my god." She had pictured this day ever since she was a little girl, begging her parents to tell her another story about the Boy-Who-Lived.

"It was my mothers. It's been in my family for generations. I just discovered it this year." He told her. Harry looked into her eyes seriously. "Ginerva Weasley. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?

Any worries she may have had flew out the window as she looked at him. His earnest eyes matched the ring. She reached out to touch the little emerald, and then pressed her mouth against his. "Yes." She murmured.


	3. A Heartfelt Hug

**A/N: Ok so I know that JK said that George married Angelina and had two children, Fred and Roxanne but I just couldn't understand how George could marry the girl Fred loved, and I have always shipped George/Katie so that's who he is married to in my head, and they will have three kids. Twin boys named Fred and Jacob, and a little girl named Roxanne. The name Jacob comes from fanfiction written by little0bird, an author who I really look up to, and who has influenced my writing a lot. Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this one, especially when I got to write the little twins, so let me know what you think, please! Oh, also, if anyone has some ideas about other moments they would like me to write, please review and let me know. I seem so be running into a bit of writers block. Sorry for the long authors note. Thanks for reading! ~WG13**

A Heartfelt Hug

George pushed the double stroller through the cemetery's gate, listening to his twin little boys babble on to each other. The sky was clear of any clouds, and the sun was just beginning to rise, quickly evaporating the dew that had settled on the blades of green grass over night. It was going to be a beautiful day. George stopped as he walked through the gate, letting it clang shut loudly behind him, and leaning over the stroller to look at his little red head boys, with what looked like hundreds of freckles covering their chubby cheeks. George swore he could already see the mischievous sparkle in their eyes that he had come to know so well from seeing it in Fred's eyes all the time. He also knew from experience that they both already had the same joking smirk he and Fred had so often wore when they were planning some prank.

"Who are we going to visit today, kiddos?" George asked the young boys gruffly.

"Unca Fwed!" Jacob supplied helpfully, grinning up at his father.

"And why?"

"Cuz it's his buuuuurwthday." Little Fred giggled.

"That's right. Who else's birthday is it?"

"You, Daddy!" They chorused.

"Mmhm." George said absent mindedly, pushing the stroller through the graveyard.

"Dewre it is, dewre it is!" Jacob shouted excitedly, pointing to Fred's headstone.

"I saw it fiwst." Little Fred cried.

"No, you didn't." Jacob said crossly.

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Daaaaaddy!" They screeched in unison.

"Boys, don't fight, mm?" Fred reprimanded distractedly, unbuckling the little trouble makers from their stroller and plopping them down on the ground.

The twins pushed themselves off the grass, and with the unsteady feet of toddlers who had just started to walk, made their way over to Fred's headstone, side by side. They stopped in front of it and together, softly said, "Happy Buwthday, Unca Fwed. We wuv you." It was a lovely moment, the identical boys standing next to each other, silhouetted against the sunrise, before Jacob spotted an earthworm in the soil nearby and they got distracted chasing after it.

George, who had watched the scene unfold from a few feet away, now slowly approached Fred's headstone, falling to his knees before it. "It's our birthday, Freddie. Again. Without you. And even after all these years, it still took all the strength I had to even get out of bed today, let alone smile." He shook his head. "Smiling still feels wrong without you. Let's see...The family is getting together for dinner tonight. That's gonna be a disaster. But at least Mom will be distracted with cooking and looking after us. I think that's the reason most of us agreed, honestly. Maybe I'll light a Filbusters Firework under Percy's chair. Just for you, yeah?" George smiled to himself, unconsciously running a hand over the empty space where his ear had once been.

"The boys are gonna be just like us, I can already tell. Though in this pair, Fred isn't the one who initiates most of the mischief. Jacob definitely inherited that from you. I'm sorry I haven't brought them to visit more often, but they're a nightmare even without trying to get them presentable enough to take out of the house. When Katie's not around they hardly even get out of their pajamas. They've been troublemakers from the beginning, just like us." His smile faded. "I miss you, bro. Everyday. I miss you when I forget you're gone and call your name into the back of the shop. I miss you when I watch the boys fling their pasta at each other, getting it places I didn't even know was possible. I miss you when I think of something funny and you aren't there to laugh with me, or when I want to take the mickey out of Ron but just can't seem to say the right thing like you did. I miss you all the time, Freddie. I love you."

George stared at the headstone until the words "Mischief Managed" -that were carved underneath Fredrick Gideon Weasley and his birth and death dates- blurred before wiping his eyes quickly and forcing himself to stand up. "I'll come back soon." He promised quietly. "And I'll try to bring them 'round more often, yeah?"

"Jacob! Fred! Time to go!" He called, his voice cracking slightly. He coughed, trying to regain his composure.

The twins ran back to his side, each grabbing onto one of his legs. "Okay Daddy!" They chimed cheerfully, looking up at him with happy smiles untouched by a war that had happened before their time.

George turned around and walked back to the strollers without looking back, Jacob in tow. It wasn't until he turned around to pick him up that he realized Fred wasn't there. George looked back, opening his mouth to call for his son, just in time to see Fred quietly pull his thumb out of his mouth and toddle up to the headstone. He threw his pudgy, baby-fat arms around the headstone and squeezed, resting his head against it. His little arms could barely wrap around the edges. He stayed that way for a moment before pulling away. "Bye-bye Unca Fwed. I wuv you. Jake-y wuvs you. Gwanmum wuvs you. Mommy wuvs you. We all wuvs you. But mostly Daddy. Daddy weeeally wuvs you. Happy Buwfday Unca Fwed."


	4. The Wand Chooses The Witch

**A/N: I had to keep making myself not post this faster, because I'll run out of ideas. I'm already halfway through the next chapter, but I would love some feedback and ideas on future moments! Please read and review! ~WG13**

The Wand Chooses The Witch

A bushy brown haired girl looked up with big, wonder filled eyes as the brick wall melted away. Professor McGonagall stepped through the arch and looked back. "Are you coming, Ms. Granger?" She inquired dryly, she remembered her own first trip to Diagon Alley and knew the expression on her face was probably just like Hermione's was now. She smiled slightly as Hermione stumbled through the archway, spinning around in her effort to take in everything in the new place.

Hermione couldn't believe it. Looking around she saw everything from gold cauldrons to barn owls to black robes that from what she could see, witches and wizards wore on a daily basis. "What's first?" She asked eagerly.

Minerva McGonagall laughed to herself at the breathless quality of Hermione's voice. She'd been deputy headmistress at Hogwarts for years, and yet the first impression of muggle-born first years never got old. "I thought we'd get you a wand."

"A wand!" Hermione's big brown eyes widened even more and she gasped.

"Yes. A wand." Professor McGonagall replied curtly. "Do keep up, Ms. Granger." She instructed as she set off at a brisk pace towards Ollivanders shop. She knew that she had to come off as strict, to keep the respect of her soon-to-be pupils, but she hated the way Hermione's curious mouth snapped shut as she bit back her questions and trotted along, trying to keep up with her new professor.

Hermione's mind raced. The thin-lipped, scary looking professor had shown up at her parents house that morning- on her birthday- with an acceptance letter to a school called Hogwarts, and told Hermione and her parents that it was a school for the... Gifted. Finally Professor McGonagall had informed them that it was a school of magic, and Hermione's name had been on the list since she was born, because she was a witch. Under normal circumstances, Hermione's parents would have thrown the lady out of the house and called her a nutter, but this was anything but normal circumstances. The professor pulled out her wand and made Emma Granger's tea cup tap-dance, and then flown a book around the room, before plucking a flower from the vase on the coffee table, making it wilt and then bloom again. It was rather hard to deny after that.

In retrospect, it did explain a lot of incidents from Hermione's childhood. Like the time Martin Wilkins had tried to pull her pigtails on the playground and had found himself pushed ten feet away without Hermione laying a finger on him. Or the time Susan Higgs had told Hermione she couldn't help wash her dog when they were having a play-date after day care when they were three and then all of the sudden the white dogs fur was dyed bright pink. Maybe her magic was the reason she always knew the answer in class. She hoped not. She hoped she was just as good at her classes at this new school. People didn't often like her, she was never invited to birthday parties, and the girls in her class always got up and moved if she sat down near them at lunch, so she usually spent lunch in the corner, reading. She'd never been good at sports, or being social, and her studies were all she had. She vowed to work as hard as she could to be the best in her class at Hogwarts.

"Ah, here we are. After you, Ms. Granger." Professor McGonagall unknowingly interrupted Hermione's runaway thoughts, opening the door to Ollivanders Wand Shop.

"Wow." Hermione stammered. Then she sneezed. The room was dusty and dimly lit. Shelves that reached the ceiling lined each wall and each was stacked full with slim, black boxes. Hermione glanced around the small, crowded room but there was not a person but her and the professor in sight.

"Ollivander!" McGonagall's loud call rang through the small shop, and a small man emerged from the back room.

"Ah, Minerva." Ollivander greeted her in a quavering voice. "Another muggle-born first year, I take it?"

"Yes. This is Hermione Granger. She will be starting at Hogwarts next year." Professor McGonagall replied.

"Interesting. Just missed the cut off, eh?" Ollivander made small talk as he pulled out a tape measure and tapped it with his wand, causing it to spring to life and start to measure Hermione's height. Ollivander walked around her, inspecting her and casually taking notes with a quill on a piece of parchment that floated in front of him.

"Yes, sir." Hermione said shyly, as the tape measure finished measuring her arm length and began to measure the length of her feet.

"Which is your wand hand?" Ollivander asked abruptly.

"My... What?" Hermione responded blankly.

"He means the hand you write with, Ms. Granger." Minerva supplied, shaking her head and just barely refraining from rolling her eyes. Ollivander always forgot that the muggle-borns weren't accustomed to wands and other magical-related things.

"Oh! Um, I write with my right hand, Mr. Ollivan- hey!" The tape measure had just begun to measure around her middle.

"Oh dear, my apologies." Ollivander said distractedly, still immersed in his notes as he jabbed his wand quickly, and the tape measure coiled itself and sprang back into his pocket.

Ollivander began to drift around the room. "Ah, here. Perhaps this one?" He waved his wand and a black box floated down from well above Hermione's head. "9 inches, elm and unicorn hair." He handed the wand to her and just as quickly snatched it away. "No, no, no." He muttered to himself.

"Whaaaaa?" Hermione said bewilderedly.

"The wand chooses the wizard, Ms. Granger, or in your case, my dear, the wand chooses the witch. And that one certainly did not choose you."

Behind Ollivanders head, Hermione was sure she saw Professor McGonagall roll her eyes, though the professor covered it well by pretending to wipe some dust from her eye.

"Here, Ms. Granger. 12 inches, oak and dragon heartstring."

Hermione wrapped her fingers around the wand. It jerked a little, and a few feeble red sparks burst out the end.

Ollivanders thin, silvery eyebrows creased. "Well, there's something there." He muttered, almost to himself. Ollivander climbed up a ladder and it whisked him around the room, stopping at certain spots to let him pull out a box, look inside, and then shake his head.

Hermione looked at McGonagall, hoping for some kind of assurance, but the professor only pursed her lips and shook her head, which didn't feel very encouraging.

"Aha!" Cried Ollivander triumphantly. The ladder quickly made its way back around the room, coming to a halt right in front of Hermione. Ollivander scurried down quickly, eagerly shoving the wand into her hands. "Vine wood and dragon heartstring, Ms. Granger! 10 inches precisely and slightly springy. Give it a whirl, my dear!"

The moment the wand touched her hesitant fingers, Hermione felt as though every nerve in her body was electrically charged. It was the first moment she was sure she was a witch. The wand hummed, alive in her hand. It... Recognized her. Accepted her. For everything that she was. Good, and bad. Hermione raised her wand in the air and drew an arc in front of her. Sparks burst from the tip of her wand, showering the room in a shimmery rainbow.

Ollivander burst into applause, smiling widely. "Ms. Granger, that is the wand for you."


	5. The Black Dog

**A/N: Hope you guys like this one! I really enjoy writing little kids. I have an idea for another one, but I would really love to hear your ideas! Please review and let me know if this is complete crap. Thanks for reading! ~WG13**

The Black Dog

"And how's my favorite godson!" A young man with sleek, well-kept black hair bellowed as he bounded in the door of the modest cottage. He pulled a package from under his arm and set it down against a wall in the hallway.

"Paddy!" A little toddler with unruly black hair that stuck out every which way and startling green, almond shaped eyes ran into the mans outstretched arms as fast as his little legs would let him. "Is dat fo me? Is it, Unca Paddy?" The boy asked, insistently.

"No, this is for my other godson who just had his birthday." The mans eyes twinkled as he teased the little boy.

"You don't has anuver godson, silly Paddy." Harry accused, giggling.

"Oh, you're right!" Sirius pretended to look puzzled. "Well then, who do I know that just turned one?" He asked.

"Me!" Harry's little face brightened as he tried to tug the package from Sirius' grip.

"Not yet, mate. Let's wait till after dinner, yeah?"

"Sirius!" A young redhead woman with bright green, almond shaped eyes that matched her sons entered the hallway, smiling broadly at her old friend.

"Hey Lils." Sirius greeted, shifting Harry onto his hip so he could kiss Lily's cheek. "Sorry I missed the big party. I was being followed. Took me a few days to shake the bastards off."

"Sirius!" Lily scolded, casting a meaningful look towards Harry, who had been sitting contently in his godfathers arms, soaking in the conversation.

It was too late. "Baz-tawd!" Harry repeated triumphantly.

Lily sighed, an exasperated expression on her face. "No, Harry, we mustn't use the bad words Uncle Padfoot uses." She corrected gently.

"No use." Said Harry solemnly.

"Good boy. Anyway, Sirius, the guest list to Harry's birthday party was literally just you, so we can just have it tonight. Guess that means we'll just have to have Harry's favorite dinner again." Lily smiled.

Harry squealed with delight. "Pasketti and meatbwalls!? Really, Mummy?!" He bounced up and down in Padfoots arms.

"Yes, sweetheart! Why don't you go find Daddy and let him know?" Lily suggested, gazing lovingly at her son. "Don't forget to tell him who is here, as well, okay Harry?"

Sirius set Harry down. "O-tay, Mummy!" Harry replied gleefully. He toddled off down the hall, screaming,"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

Lily led Sirius into the kitchen and began fixing him a cup of tea.

"How are you, Lils?" Padfoot asked seriously.

"Oh, you know." Lily sighed. "James is bored. Hell, I'm getting bored. Harry is a handful, so he distracts us some, but... I hope this ends soon, Sirius. I really do. I'm tired of being cooped up. I'm tired of being scared when I hear my front gate creak open. I want to take my son to the damn park! I want him to know children his own age! Not just his parents, godfather, Remus, Peter, and, well, Dumbledore. That's about the extent of the list, and I hate it. This is no way to live, Padfoot." Lily wiped her eyes quickly. "I'm sorry." She muttered. "It's just stressful."

"I know, Lily." Padfoots heart broke at the pain one of his best mates was suffering.

James Potter unknowingly broke the tense, sad moment by bounding through the door with a wide, goofy smile on his face and Harry clinging to his back. "Padfoot!"

"Hey there, Prongsie." Sirius smiled goodnaturedly.

"Heard you couldn't be here because, and I quote, the 'baz-twards' were following you." James could hardly hold back a laugh.

"Harry!" Lily reprimanded, looking over the pot of pasta she was preparing.

Harry's eyes wided. "Sowwy, Mummy." He mumbled, looking down at his feet.

"Observant little bugger, isn't he." Sirius muttered under his breath.

"Bug-gah!"

"Sirius!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

After dinner, the family sat around the kitchen table, chatting. Sirius had automatically settled Harry onto his lap when dinner ended, and Lily had banished the dishes to the sink, planning on bribing James into washing them later.

The elder Potters were eager to hear news about the outside world and their friends, and what was going on concerning the war they couldn't fight in. Sirius was their most consistent link to the outside world, he tried to come over at least once ever other week. Remus had been in hiding for over a year now, the ministry and the rest of the wizarding society was afraid of him, and the Death Eaters would not react well if he refused to be recruited. Peter came over sometimes, though he seemed to be dropping by less and less as time went on, and Dumbledore was a busy man, what with running the Order and protecting the students of Hogwarts.

"Have you heard from Alice and Frank?" Lily interrogated hopefully.

"No. But as far as I know, Augusta Longbottom is still alive, and there's no way the Death Eaters could get her to tell where her son, daughter-in-law, and grandson are hiding. Don't worry, if anything happened to them, I'd come to you immediately. You know that." Sirius nodded encouragingly at the little redhead, who's ferocity always made her seem much larger than she actually was. When in front of her trusted family and friends, she let down her guard, and she seemed to shrink at the idea of losing her close friends.

Harry brought a much needed distraction when he tugged on Padfoot's shirt. "Pwesents, Unca Paddy! You pwomised!" He demanded, looking up at his godfather with big green puppy-dog eyes.

"Too right I did, Harry James!" Sirius exclaimed. Rather than moving Harry, the young man summoned the package from the hallway he'd left it it. It zoomed into the kitchen and skidded to a stop on the table in front of Sirius ad Harry.

"Yay!" Harry clapped his hand in excitement as he reached for the long, brown paper-wrapped parcel. Lily and James beamed as they watched their only son with his godfather.

"Now hold on, mate." Padfoot cautioned. "I gotta tell you about it first!" He explained, stopping Harry from ripping the paper off just yet. "I got this present for you because it is for big boys, just like you, and this runs in the family. " He grinned, glancing slyly over at Lily as she groaned quietly, realizing what the gift was.

"O-tay, Unca Paddy." Harry said solemnly before reaching forward and ripping the paper to reveal a small toy broomstick.

"A bwoomstick!" Harry cried joyfully, as his father let out a whoop. "All for me?" He asked, his voice filled with wonder.

"All yours, kiddo." Sirius chuckled.

"Harry, what do you say." Lily said automatically.

"Fank you, Unca Paddy!" Harry threw his arms around his godfathers neck and hugged him enthusiastically.

Sirius just smiled.

"Can I wide it, Mummy? Can I, can I?" Harry begged, turning on as much toddler charm as he could as he looked over to his mother.

"Not tonight, sweetheart." The young mother said regretfully. "It's late. Way past your bedtime, in fact."

"O-tay." Harry pouted.

"I'll put the pup to bed." Sirius offered, scooping Harry up. "Say goodnight to Mum and Dad, mate."

"Night Mummy! Night Daddy! I wuv you!" Harry leaned down to kiss his parents goodnight.

"Sleep well, baby."

"Goodnight, son."

Sirius carried a yawning Harry up the stairs and into the nursery. He lay the little boy in his crib. "I have one more present for you, pup." He said quietly.

Harry's eyes widened. "Weally?"

"Yeah!" Sirius smiled at his godson, and pulled a stuffed black dog from behind his back. "This is your Paddy. So I can be here with you even when I'm not here. Okay, Harry James?" Sirius looked lovingly at the toddler, who was clutching his new stuffie and fighting to keep his eyes open.

"O-tay, Unca Paddy. Fank you. I wuv you." The child muttered as his eyes drifted shut.

"Happy Birthday, Harry Potter. I love you, pup."


End file.
